


Cut you deep and leave a scar

by maitimiel



Category: Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale), Original Work
Genre: A Wolf is Still a Wolf, Adam and John in their early thirties, Alex is about 17 or so in human years, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Male!Little Red, Modern Era, Real supportive husbands don't get in the way of you fucking monsters, Rimming, The story starts with, Threesome - M/M/M, and evolves to a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 09:38:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maitimiel/pseuds/maitimiel
Summary: Adam and John live comfortable just outside the city, surrounded by trees and quiet. Adam thought he lacked for nothing, until the dayhecame into their lives.





	Cut you deep and leave a scar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurage_hime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurage_hime/gifts).



> I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it!
> 
> Many thanks to Nrandom and Faeryn, who've done the insanity of betaing this while it was being written, and to the mods, who were endlessly patient the entire time!

The woods were green and dense. Adam wouldn't have described them as dark - it was true that when the sun wasn't shining, one couldn't see very far, but still, "dark" might give the impression they were sinister, dangerous; in fact, living by the forest was perhaps what made him feel safest. Adam loved to work at his desk by the window, sometimes catching sight of a squirrel or some other small critter. It was quiet there, peaceful.

If he ever felt anxious or found it hard to think, Adam might go for a walk. There were paths among the trees, and while John had occasionally expressed concerns about him getting lost, Adam was sure he could find his way back, even in the dark. Moving away from the city had been their best decision to date, and he was so grateful for it every day. 

He had water boiling for tea. John had left for work early, as he usually did, with a kiss to his forehead and a promise to be back soon. He wouldn't be home before night fell, but Adam was fine with it. He had all the solitude he needed to work on his book, or read one when words were not forthcoming. He poured the water, lost in thought.

It was raining gently outside, just enough to make the air slightly chilly, and Adam opened the kitchen door and stood on the threshold, mug warm in his hands. He stared at the trees and the weeds for a moment and almost didn't notice he, too, was being stared at.

Just as soon as he saw them, the eyes disappeared. Adam squinted at the shadows between the trees, but couldn't find any sign of whatever had been watching him. Too tall to be a squirrel, he mused, perhaps a fox? It was far enough away he didn't think he could chase it, and it probably wouldn't have been the best idea either. 

He sipped his tea, and went back inside.

* * *

He had met John in college, when they were both living in the dorms. John had never been his roommate, but they still spent hours and hours together in the library, where it was quiet. Adam once confessed John was the only one he felt truly at ease with, the one who didn't make him overwhelmed, or make him want to run. John had kissed his hand, and that was it. He was loving and uncomplicated. He was willing to drive 40 minutes every morning just so Adam could be comfortably away from people who made him feel like he was drowning. He chased the silence for Adam, fought for it as fiercely as if it were for himself. 

Sometimes Adam loved him so much it hurt. If he could have him to himself, all day long, every day, he'd never give that up. 

That was the feeling he was trying to convey when he wrapped himself around him like an octopus, on a certain morning, and refused to let go. John laughed softly and nuzzled his neck, a warm hand slipping under Adam's waistband to cup his ass. Adam grinned and kissed the nearest part of John he could reach, which happened to be his shoulder blade.

"You could meet me for lunch," John whispered softly, and Adam considered it. "There's a new Chinese place across the street I've been meaning to check out."

"Mmmm not today," he answered regretfully. "I feel this is a good day to work. Tomorrow?"

"That works," John spoke into his ear, then licked it. "I need to get up."

Adam tightened his limbs around him and John started laughing again, before pushing Adam on his back and kissing him deeply. When he left, Adam went back to sleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

His tea had gone cold. 

Adam didn't notice it, because he was too busy writing and re-writing the same couple paragraphs again and again, frustration increasing by the second. He was just about to call John and tell him he'd meet him for lunch after all when his eyes passed fleetingly over the woods beyond his window, and then he looked again more intently.

It wasn't a fox, by any means, and he wondered how he could have thought that. Staring directly at him, quietly among the trees, was a big gray wolf. It stared at Adam for about a minute before turning around and disappearing into the shadows. Adam's heart was racing. 

He went to the kitchen and stepped outside, but there was no sign of the wolf. He'd never seen a wolf in the forest, even when he was wandering around on his own. He walked up to where the wolf had been, its track visible in the damp soil. It was bigger than Adam had expected.

Adam turned the kettle on. 

He thought for a short moment about going back to his writing; but before he knew it, he had already typed "habitats and behaviors of the gray wolf" on his address bar.

* * *

John brought home Italian take out for dinner, which they ate in front of the TV. John liked history documentaries and those about nature. He rested his head on Adam's lap as Adam flipped through the channels, settling distractedly on a show about ancient Roman architecture. He ran his fingers through John's soft curls, pensively. 

"I saw a wolf today."

"Mmmm what?"

"A wolf," Adam repeated, "it was standing in the woods, a few feet outside my window."

"Did it come near the house?" John asked, turning to look up at Adam.

"Not really. I went outside to see it better, but it went away."

"You shouldn't have."

"Huh? Why not?"

"It could have attacked you."

"It didn't seem particularly aggressive." Adam remembered how it had stood calmly, looking straight at him. "Mostly curious, I think."

John chuckled.

"How could you tell?"

"Well," Adam searched for words, "it just stood there. If it wanted to eat me, it would've advanced, right?"

"Maybe it didn't think it could get to you, with the closed windows and all that."

"I guess that's possible," Adam conceded, unconvinced. "It was so beautiful, John. I had never seen a wolf before."

"I did once, at a zoo." John looked at the TV again. "It was very sad."

Adam could picture it, the wild, proud animal, locked in a cage. It was indeed sad. He thought he could imagine it, being stared at by strangers every day. He shuddered.

"I read wolves like to live in packs. I wonder if this one has a pack."

"I hope not," John spoke, distractedly.

"What? Why is that?" Adam asked curiously.

"We don't want a pack of wolves living nearby. Could be dangerous."

"Oh."

He looked towards the window again but he couldn't see anything in the dark. It had started raining again, and he wondered if his wolf had a shelter, a den or a cave, or something.

* * *

"Will you meet me for lunch?" John asked, buttoning his shirt. Adam yawned, staring at him appreciatively, if a bit blearily. 

"Yeah, I'll be there. What time do you get out today?"

"Half past midday," he leaned down to plant a kiss to Adam's lips, "Meet me at the office?"

"Sounds good." He pushed his legs out of the bed, reluctantly. It was still raining and the air was a bit chilly. He felt the floor for his slippers. 

"Are you getting up?" John asked, bemused. "It's still six."

"Ye-ah," he yawned, "don't feel like going back to bed."

"You should put on some clothes then," John smiled at him wolfishly, resting cold hands on Adam's naked chest. "You'll catch your death." 

Adam shook him off, laughing, "asshole."

He moved to peer out of the window. No sign of any living thing but the trees. John kissed him lightly on the nape of his neck and, a few minutes later, Adam heard the car start in the garage..

Adam worked all morning, glancing furtively outside in hopes the wolf would be back again today, but there was no sign of it. Adam would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. Regardless of what John had said, he didn't think the animal wanted to hurt him. It had run away as soon as it noticed Adam staring back, perhaps it was scared? Or it might be hungry, Adam had read that wolves might scavenge through people's trash if they had no better source of food. 

He drove to the city wondering if he'd ever see his wolf again.

* * *

The next few days were quiet and wolf-free. 

Adam carried on with his work, but found himself distracted more and more often as he looked out of the window, hoping for a glint of eyes. But even when he went for a walk, ignoring John's recommendations, he could find no trace of it. It continued to grow colder as autumn advanced, and the rain became heavier. Adam started to believe the wolf had passed him by, in search for a pack, and was long gone.

He saw it again when he was making tea. 

It had rained all morning and most of the afternoon, and Adam had just gotten out of the shower. He was wearing slippers and a bathrobe that belonged to John, when he chanced to look outside. The wolf was there. _His_ wolf was there, sitting on his backside. Nearer than before.

He stalked as quietly as he could towards the kitchen door and opened it softly. The wolf didn't move, looking straight at him, _into_ him, for a full minute. 

Then the wolf ran. 

Adam was practically naked. He was wearing slippers. He ran after it.

It didn't take long for him to realize that running in the forest was much harder than walking in the forest. He had a hard time ducking from branches and trying not to get his feet caught in the tree roots. In a few minutes, he was panting. "Shit," he whispered, looking all around. There was no sign of wolf or home. Everywhere was equally green and dark, and the cold started to settle on his skin now he wasn't moving anymore. He turned around, hoping to be able to track his own footsteps, and then all air ran out of his lungs.

Up front, it seemed bigger than before. Its fur was a deep shade of gray with streaks of black, and its eyes were piercing and nearly level with Adam's. He could see its breath condensing, could feel it on his skin, and he noticed he wasn't breathing. He lifted a shaky hand towards the wolf, and it _growled_.

Adam hadn't been expecting that. He took his hand back so fast he almost fell down, but the wolf didn't stop growling - the sound seemed to reverberate through Adam's very bones, and he wondered for a moment whether he should try to escape. He took a step back, painfully aware he couldn't really outrun a wolf. Fear, like he hadn't ever felt until now, flared when the wolf started moving closer to him. He thought of John, and of his request not to go out when he was alone. The wolf bared his teeth.

The ground was cold and wet, and that's how Adam knew he had fallen on his knees. He closed his eyes, hoping it'd be quick. It took him a minute to realize the growling had stopped. 

Trembling, he looked up, and thought for a moment he had walked into a dream. 

There wasn't a wolf in front of him anymore, but a man, tall, broad, _beautiful_. His chest was covered in hair, the same shade the wolf's fur had been. His eyes were amber and he was staring at Adam, as he had before. His teeth were bared, but it seemed more like a smile than a growl. He had a beard and an overall… _wild_ look about him, though; Adam laughed at that weakly, of _course_. The wolf cocked his head inquisitively at him and stepped closer, so close Adam could very easily have touched him. The man wore no clothes, and Adam felt his face grow hot when his eyes focused on the undeniably huge member hanging right before his eyes. He looked at the man's face again, swallowing hard. 

It was a striking, terrifying face.

"H-hi," Adam felt immediately very dumb. Could the man even speak? His grin widened, and he pushed Adam backward. Taken by surprise, Adam lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground, his robe feeling suddenly very thin and revealing. The naked man followed him swiftly, climbing over him until his face was centimeters away from Adam's. Adam thought he ought to feel more scared, for in a way the man wasn't any less scary than the animal, and yet he could barely hold back the desire to touch and feel the texture of his hair, the temperature of his skin. 

Not looking away for even a moment, Adam raised a hand again, not quite knowing what he wanted to do with it. The man pinning him down looked curious before imitating the gesture. Encouraged, Adam touched the man's shoulder, ever so softly. He felt the twin touch on his own shoulder, then neck and chest. He shivered, and not because of the cold. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his head, his lips meeting the man's for the briefest second. If the gesture was welcomed, he couldn't tell, 'cause the other simply squinted his eyes at him, before burying his teeth in his neck. Adam gasped, his body shifting at the discomfort, and the man used his weight and his hands to hold him down. 

Adam noticed three things at that moment. First, the man's blood must run very hot, 'cause he was positively burning against Adam's own chilly skin. Second, the man was as strong as the wolf, and he could hold Adam down as easily as if Adam was a child. Last: his cock was hard, pulsing against Adam's hip, precum dampening the fabric that only barely covered his body by now. Not that Adam's own erection was any less obvious.

He tried to relax his muscles, and the teeth were replaced by a soothing tongue. The man licked his neck and his shoulders, his face and his chest, and Adam didn't move until he felt hands trying to untie the belt of his robe. A second later he was helping, and then rising to free his arms from the fabric. He started to lay back down, but the man grabbed him by the wrist, pushing him on all fours instead. 

"Right," Adam thought out loud, "this will need some help."

He spat generously on his hand and took it to his asshole, working himself open as well as he could given the circumstances. He stared behind himself to see the other man watch him with interest, and flushed again, making a show of himself. Once he was somewhat satisfied, he went back to balancing himself on both hands, and braced himself for what could only be a rather painful breach.

But the wolf didn't seem especially hurried. He leaned in and started licking Adam's hole with wide, enthusiastic strokes. Adam felt his cock grow even harder and pushed his hips back, savoring the wet and hot sensation. He had started moaning softly when the wolf finally positioned himself behind him, and there was barely any warning before he was pushing all the way in.

It _was_ painful. Between the poor preparation, the absence of actual lube, and the sheer size of the man's cock up his ass, Adam couldn't say it didn't hurt. But at the same time he felt himself be stretched wide, his cock throbbed like never before and he saw stars. He groaned loudly into the quiet forest, in a mixture of pleasure and pain he'd never felt before, and he gave himself up to the feeling, not trying to resist as the man immediately started moving.

He'd never been treated this roughly, by John or anyone before. He found a strange sense of security in the notion that he couldn't do anything; the wolf had full control of him and his body, and he could only wait for it to be through. He grew accustomed to the pain faster than he'd expected, pleasure building up inside him like an explosion. Before he knew it, he was coming hard on the forest soil, cock untouched. He let his arms slouch, face near the ground, but the wolf paid no heed to it, holding his ass up and continuing to fuck him right through a wave of sensitivity. Adam whimpered.

He felt himself get hard again after a while, though this time it felt more urgent, almost painful. He gripped his cock and started stroking at last, in the same rhythm the wolf was moving inside him, and wondered if he could get a second orgasm so soon after the first. 

The wolf suddenly held him tighter, pressing himself into Adam even deeper than before. To Adam's surprise, it seemed the wolf's dick was growing thicker, as if a bulb was swelling at the base. Adam bit his lips and fought to keep still as the wolf tried to push the base of his cock past his ring of muscle, the stretch painful once more. For a moment he thought it just wouldn't be possible, his body wouldn't be able to handle such a large intrusion. Then it passed through, and Adam screamed, coming again. He felt a hot wave inside him when the wolf came as well, but his dick didn't seem to go soft. Adam let himself drop to the damp ground, and the wolf went with him. They panted, and didn't move for a while. 

Adam started feeling sensitive again.

It wasn't that it _hurt_ , not exactly, at this point. But a few minutes had passed, the forest floor was cold under him, and the wolf was still buried inside him to the hilt. Adam tried to move, experimentally, and got a warning bite to his shoulder. Proceeding more carefully, he tried to softly separate his hips from the man at his back. He couldn't. 

With dawning horror, he realized that just as the base had been hard to push in, it would now be hard to pull out. And, unlike before, the wolf seemed to have zero motivation to get it done. Adam bit his lips, trying to calm down. This happened to dogs, didn't it? And it passed. It had to pass eventually. He suddenly noticed how dark it was getting. He tried to pull again, only to be pressed harder into the floor, but the wolf didn't bite him this time. 

"Relax." Adam froze. "It'll come out soon, jeez."

That voice. It was nothing like Adam had expected. It was rough, yes, but it sounded… cheerful? Like a boy deeply satisfied with himself.

"You can talk?" Adam asked, for lack of anything better to say.

"Obviously." There was a smirk there, and Adam could practically see his bared teeth.

Adam didn't really know what to say to a man-wolf he had just met, fucked, and was now stuck to by the ass. And he called himself a writer. 

"Do you have a name?" He asked, and the wolf laughed again.

* * *

Alex shifted back to wolf form as soon as his _knot_ softened up. Adam stood up, wincing, picking up the now wet and soiled bathrobe with him. He put it on, but there was no sign of his slippers. The wolf growled at him, and started walking.

They advanced much slower now than before. It was dark, and Adam could barely see the wolf ahead of him most of the time, but somehow he managed to keep up. He hoped they were going home, though Adam didn't quite know what he'd do when they got there. Would Alex stay? Would he go back to being human? What about John? John had seemed none too eager to have a wild, dangerous animal around the house. Would a wild, dangerous man be any different?

After what seemed like hours, Adam finally saw the rectangles of warm orange light that were the windows of his house. John was home. Adam searched for Alex in the dark and called for him, but if he was still near, he didn't answer. Adam let the light be his guide, eager to get inside and take a hot shower. 

As soon as he was close enough to be seen from the house, John opened the kitchen door and came towards him, face heavy with concern.

"Oh my God, Adam, are you okay?" He rubbed his hands up and down Adam's cold limbs, frantically. "Where were you, did you get lost?"

"No. Yes!" Adam didn't know where to begin. "Can we go inside? I'll tell you everything."

"Of course!" John pulled him into his arms, a heavy sigh of relief escaping him, and Adam let himself enjoy the warmth.

Adam did tell him everything, talking almost non-stop as the water ran hot down his back. He let himself warm up talking about the run, his voice growing shyer when he described what the wolf had done with him. John was a good listener, making no comment from where he was sitting on the floor, up until:

" _Knotted_ you?"

"I think that's what it's called," Adam blushed, turning the shower off. "You know, like a dog?"

"Like a dog," John seemed unable to decide whether he was awed or disgusted. Adam stared at him, expectantly. "Like a dog. Did it hurt?"

"At the beginning, yes, and a little bit at the end, but not. Not for most of it." He stepped out of the shower, and John passed him a towel. "It was good, for the most part."

John touched his hip softly, and Adam looked down. Alex's hands were still visible where he had gripped him, a dark bruise that would probably ache the following day.

"I didn't know you liked it rough," he whispered, tracing the mark reverently. Adam shrugged.

"Me neither."

They went to bed together, John wrapping his arms protectively around Adam. 

"A _werewolf_ ," he whispered as if he still couldn't quite understand it.

"Do you believe me?"

"No, of course I do, it's just… crazy, you know?"

"Yeah." Adam nested his head on John's chest, relieved. John ran his fingers through his hair, gently.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

"I really don't know."

"Do you want him to?"

Adam only hesitated for a second.

"Yes."

* * *

John stayed home the following day, and the one after that, but Alex didn't show. Adam didn't think he would as long as John was around, so on the third day he kissed him goodbye in the morning and sent him to work. 

Alex didn't come that day, either. 

When he finally did Adam went back to the bedroom, grabbed a bottle of lube, and fingered himself open before following the impatient wolf to the forest.

* * *

It took a lot to convince Alex to come _into_ the house. 

He insisted on standing outside, in wolf form, until Adam followed him to the shelter of the trees. Adam had asked once, while they were joined, for Alex to come back with him. He'd gotten no real reply, but Alex did walk on two legs until they were nearly in sight of the house. It was progress. 

The minutes they were joined were the only times Alex ever answered any of his questions. Through a combination of groans and monosyllabics, Adam had gathered that he'd been a lone wolf for a long, long time, and that as far as he knew, he'd had the ability to transform since the day he'd been born. He didn't like humans any more than he liked other wolves, he'd never stepped foot in a city, though he had once broken into a farmhouse and eaten their chihuahua. Adam took it all in, as best as he could, trying to understand the man-beast he'd decided he wanted to have in his life.

But Alex wouldn't come any closer. 

Adam mused, while he sipped his tea, that he was lucky. He had a wonderful husband who cared for him more than anything else, he had a mysterious, striking lover who always left him wanting more. Perhaps it was greediness to want it all together, in a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain, comfort and adventure, but oh, how he'd love it. 

Later, he would swear it had been impulse, and not deliberate planning, that made him do what he did. It had been raining and Adam was writing by his window one day when he saw the familiar figure of Alex standing outside, fur covered with mud, eyes demanding. Adam took the lube, but instead of getting ready quickly and going outside, he opened the kitchen door, undressed, and leaned over the kitchen counter, exposing himself to the wolf's hungry eyes. Then he started preparing himself, unhurriedly. 

He wasn't sure how much Alex cared about preparation. He liked to lick into him, he did it every time, but whether that was for Adam's benefit or his own, he couldn't tell. Adam could tell this was working, though, because he could hear Alex growling outside in annoyance. He slowed down even more, stretching himself with four fingers, a soft moan escaping his lips. 

He heard him before he felt him, and when he did, it was a bite, a _wolf_ bite right under his ribs, followed by a human one to the side of his neck. He registered faintly that it wasn't deep enough to cause real damage, though there were rivulets of blood running down his side. The next moment Alex was pushing inside him, his arms caging him against the counter. Adam was blissful.

"Thinking you can have fun without me?" Alex growled under his ear, and Adam laughed weakly. "I could easily drag you outside. I could shred you to pieces."

"Touch my cock," Adam spoke, like a suggestion. Alex growled and said "no", but did it anyway, with a hint of claws.

There was mud on the countertops, Adam noticed after they both collapsed over it, spent and sweaty. He looked back at the trail of dirt covering his kitchen floor and decided it had been worth it. They were in an awkward position, but couldn't move away from each other to adjust, so Adam just remained down on the counter, feeling indistinctly satisfied with himself. 

Suddenly Alex flinched and stood up straight, pulling lightly at their junction. He was totally alert. 

"What's wrong?" Adam furrowed his brow confused for a moment, but then he heard it too.

John's car was entering their garage. Alex looked panicked.

"It's okay, he doesn't care," Adan started saying, but Alex wasn't listening.

"We gotta get outta here," he barked, and started walking backward, pulling Adam with him with a strong arm around his middle. It took Adam a second to recover his mind.

"No!"

"I don't wanna be near him!" Alex's voice was low and dangerous. 

"Why not?" John asked, from the door, and they both froze. Alex's jaw was rigid and he was shaking slightly, eyes fixed on John's face. He didn't answer.

"Hey," Adam spoke, his voice ringing loudly in the quiet room. John took his time to look them over, his eyes widening as he saw the bite.

"Is everything okay?" He looked concerned, but his voice was very even.

"Yes," Adam spoke and at the same time Alex growled. "We're just waiting for, you know." He pointed in the general direction of their groins. 

"Oh," John looked at them, but there wasn't anything interesting visible. Alex seemed to grip Adam harder at the scrutiny. Right. Adam took a deep breath. 

"Would you mind… leaving us alone for a few minutes? It shouldn't take long." 

Adam looked at his husband, hoping he'd understand what he was trying to say, that this wasn't about him, or a rejection. John's eyes traveled once more to the teeth mark, questioning, but after a minute he relaxed slightly. 

"Sure, I'll go ahead and take a shower," he said casually, leaving a folder on the kitchen table and walking towards the bathroom. Adam watched him go into their bedroom and toss his shirt before picking up a towel. He gave him one last look before closing the bathroom door. 

"Are you alright?" Adam asked, trying to look over his shoulder without pulling too much. Alex didn't respond, his eyes still fixed where John had been. They heard the shower being turned on.

An immeasurable amount of time seemed to pass before Alex's knot finally came off, though Adam knew it had to have been a few minutes. He was relieved, both physically and emotionally, before Alex shoved him off and started for the door. Adam ran after him.

"Wait! Alex, wait!" They were outside, and Adam feared Alex might transform before bothering to talk to him. "What the fuck is happening?"

Alex turned around and faced him, angrier than Adam had ever seen him. He seemed taller, and stronger, as he towered over Adam, shaking with rage.

"You planned this!"

"What? No, of course not!" Adam protested.

"You're always trying to get me in there!"

"Yes, but not like this!"

"You're lying!" He grabbed Adam's arm, pulling him closer. "You wanted him there."

"I… what's the _problem_ in having him there?"

Alex's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth.

"We don't _need_ him. We can be alone."

"I-Okay, we'll be careful to be alone next time," Adam couldn't help but feel he was missing something. 

" _Now_." He pulled Adam's arm again, this time trying to pull him towards to forest with him. Oh!

"I can't _leave_ John." he stood his ground, feeling immensely sad. "I'm sorry."

Alex looked at him, eyes shinier than they'd ever been, even though it was already dark. In one second he pushed Adam to the ground, transformed, and ran to the trees, never looking back. 

Adam picked himself up and returned inside. He looked out one last time and closed the door behind him. John was waiting for him, still dressed. Adam immediately let himself be cradled, crying openly on John's shoulder, only stepping away long enough so his husband could pull his pants off before they stepped together into the hot spray of water. 

John washed his hair and ran soapy hands over his bruised neck and hips. It hadn't been this bad in a long time. He knelt down so he could see the wolf bite more clearly, touching the wounds ever so lightly. They weren't deep. The bleeding had mostly stopped before Adam got under the shower. He knew a wolf could crush bones with the strength of its jaw. What Alex could have done, had he wanted to. 

"We should get some kind of antibiotics into you. It could get infected." His face was contorted with worry. Adam touched his cheek and nodded.

"Okay."

"Do you," John hesitated, "is this really what you want? What you _still_ want?"

"It's not… he's not trying to hurt me. He could do a lot worse." John grimaced at that, and Adam chuckled quietly. "Right, I know how that just sounded. I promise, though, this is nothing he did against my will."

"If you wanted to leave him, would he allow you to do that?"

"I think I just might have," Adam said, and his eyes started burning again. John stood up.

"What happened?"

"He wanted me to go away with him, I think. For good. I told him I didn't want to. I don't think he's coming back." He was definitely crying again.

John wrapped his arms around him once more, solid and safe.

"Why did he want that?"

"I think you intimidate him."

John didn't quite know what to think of that. He held his husband tighter and wondered if the antibiotic cream he'd bought after his niece's cat had bitten him was still good.

* * *

John didn't like being alone. He had no idea how Adam could possibly find it preferable to being among people, when he had always aimed at having as much company as possible. He'd grown up in a big, loud family, and while he didn't exactly need the noise, having no one to chat with as he went about his day made him feel quite lonely. He didn't know what to do with himself. It was hard to keep himself from just going to bed as soon as got out of the shower.

Normally this wouldn't happen, 'cause Adam would be home to welcome him, to cook with him and watch television, or chat about their days, or even bounce ideas for whatever he happened to be writing then. John suspected Adam would only ever talk about his writing if he was truly desperate and about to discard the draft anyway, but he didn't mind. Adam managed to give soul to topics John would never have considered the least bit interesting, and he could listen to him talk about it all day. Today, though, Adam wasn't around.

Alex hadn't returned ever since John had walked in on them in the kitchen, tied together and covered in blood and dirt. John hadn't seen Alex before, in wolf or human form. He had been… shaken was perhaps a good word. The absolute hatred the man had stared at him with, it wasn't something to be forgotten. His eyes were a deep yellow, unlike the eyes of any man, and his hair was mostly gray, but what had shocked John the most was how strikingly _young_ Alex had looked. John couldn't tell how old he was, but if he were a full man, he would have guessed 19, perhaps even younger. He wondered how long a wolf lived. 

It was transparent how much Alex's absence was weighing on Adam. A couple of weeks or so after that his sister had asked him to visit for some reason or other. Normally John would have stayed out of it, knowing his husband's relationship with Susan was strained at best, but this one time he thought it might be better to get him out of the house for a couple of days, to get his head out of it.

Thus he was alone, drinking a glass of wine in the kitchen and waiting for his frozen lasagna to be ready, when the howling began.

John didn't know all that much about wolves, but by the sound of it, he didn't think it was one single individual. It lasted for about 3 minutes or so and then there was silence again. He couldn't help but wonder if Alex was involved, and if he was safe. Not that there was anything he could do if not. He was fairly certain that if he were to approach the man in his wolf form, he'd rip his face off. 

Still, the noise seemed to echo in his head and he wasn't sure, when he woke up in the middle of the night, if he'd been dreaming, or if the wolves had called again.

* * *

John was too used to waking up early to sleep in, even on Sundays. Not long after the sun came up, he was out of bed and pulling pants on, walking energetically towards the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. It was only chance that made him look out the window just in time to see a wolf stumbling and collapsing just outside the woods. Its fur was dirty and stained with something dark but, underneath that, it was gray, with streaks of black.

John held his breath, but the wolf didn't move again. 

He had never seen Alex's wolf form, couldn't be sure, but somehow he _knew_ it was him fallen not too far from the house, seemingly hurt.

John considered his options. He could contact the forest guard, but the thought of having them come and unknowingly pick up and cage a man tasted bitter at the end of his throat. If Alex were to transform in captivity, what would happen? He could call a veterinarian, but they would probably just refer him to the forest folks. Coffee totally forgotten, John stared at the wolf, biting his lips. He remembered Adam's bitten flank, bleeding on their kitchen floor. "He could do a lot worse," Adam had said, as if that were any consolation. John could go outside, and try to help.

He wasn't sure how long he'd waited, hoping against hope that Alex would just stand up and walk away, but there was no movement. He could be dead by now.

That set his resolve. John picked a water bottle from the fridge and opened the door loudly, hoping Alex would react in any way. He started walking, slowly and loudly, but if Alex could hear him, he made no acknowledgment of it. John stopped two meters away, and evaluated the situation. The dark stain on his back was definitely blood, looking that close, and the wolf did seem to be breathing, if raggedly. He didn't open his eyes when John came near, nor even when John, still shaking, had poured the smallest amount of water over his muzzle. 

Winter was almost upon them, and John could feel it in the cold air and ground. He touched Alex's flank briefly, confirming he was also freezing. This wasn't safe, he thought. He didn't know much about wolves, but he knew no mammals could control body temperature. He had to get Alex warmed up, or he wouldn't make it through. 

There wasn't really much John could do, once he realized that. With more courage than he felt he had, he carried the wolf inside, and laid him carefully on the couch. Then he grabbed the throw blanket and covered him with it. 

He wondered if Alex was going to wake up and rip off his face.

But for the following hours, at least, there was no face-ripping. 

Eventually, John felt safe enough that Alex wasn't going to wake up so soon that he actually left him alone in the living room and went to make lunch. He had no motivation to cook just for himself, and so frozen pizza it was. He forwent the wine, however.

It was late afternoon when something finally happened. 

John had been trying to keep Alex hydrated by damping his muzzle at intervals with a wet piece of cloth. There was no visible sign of whether or not this was helping, but John wasn't sure what else he could do. He was ready to go back to the kitchen after one more try, when Alex moved his head, stretching his neck backward. Then, both slowly and all at once, he changed. Limbs got longer, fur retracted, and before John knew it there was a frighteningly pale man unconscious in his couch, half covered by his flower-patterned blanket.

John stopped breathing, but Alex's eyes remained closed, long limbs sprawled about awkwardly. He looked every bit as attractive as the first time John saw him, but something about him just screamed _fragile_ to John. Alex had dark circles under his eyes, his breathing was still labored, and his neck was covered by the most _impressive_ bite mark, the skin around it bruised purple. 

He might not know anything about wolves, but he did know how to clean up a human's wounds, and that's what he did. 

As gently as he could, John washed the dried blood away with a warm, damp piece of cloth, focusing on the neck bite first. Everywhere he looked was either bruised or scratched, or both. John felt like he was violating something when he pulled the blanket away to check for more wounds, but the myriad of bites and scratches on Alex's flank made him forget all about it. It looked worse than the neck bite, swollen and angry, and John cleaned it very carefully before applying the same antibiotic cream he had used on Adam when Alex bit him. Alex shifted a bit at the pressure, but didn't wake. 

Ideally, John thought as he covered him again, he should take some antibiotic pills or something. But even if Alex did wake up and didn't decide to eat him on the spot, John found it hard to imagine he could persuade him to accept any kind of medicine. He hoped the wolf's body was as strong as it looked.

He settled down on the floor with a book, leaning against the television rack across from the couch. Despite himself, he felt better for not being alone.

* * *

John woke up startled, his nightstand clock telling him it was just past four o'clock. He squinted in the dark, trying to determine what'd woken him up, when a grave, low noise came from the living room. 

He got up at once, not bothering to dress or put on shoes, and walked up to the couch carefully. 

Alex had moved and half kicked the blanket away, but his eyes were still closed and his face looked pained. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and chest, and he was shivering violently. John knelt by him, feeling his temperature, and was alarmed by how hot he was.

"Fuck," he whispered, running his fingers through his hair. He didn't think he could carry Alex to take a cold shower, and trying to force pills down into his mouth was as likely to help as to get stuck in his throat. He walked to the kitchen to grab a tea towel and some ice cubes, and pressed them softly to the boy's forehead, and pulses, and the nape of his neck. He wished Adam was there, and thought absently he should probably have called to tell him about this whole thing, but he didn't have time for that now.

After what felt like hours the fever seemed to recede, though Alex still shivered. Carefully, John pulled the blanket up and over his bare chest and shoulders. He felt safe to get up and go look for a thermometer in the bathroom drawer. He returned to a pair of dazed, but very _open_ eyes.

John froze. Alex had pushed himself up on his elbows, confused by his surroundings, but the moment he saw John standing by the bathroom door his eyes narrowed and his posture became tenser, more aggressive. He seemed incapable of blinking.

"It's okay," John spoke very softly, "you're okay."

"Where's Adam?" Alex's voice was dry and rough, and he didn't relax even a single muscle despite John's reassurances.

"Adam isn't here."

Alex pushed himself up at once and immediately fell to the floor, holding his side and groaning in pain. John started towards him, but Alex practically barked at him.

"Stay away from me!"

"Alright," John stopped, eyeing Alex concernedly. The bite on his flank seemed partially infected, despite the cream, and he had a deep scratch on his left thigh John had missed before. "Alright, I'm staying where I am. But you should lie down. You're in no condition to stand."

"Fuck you."

"Alex,"

"Don't call me that!" 

"Okay." He took a deep, calculating breath. "You're hurt."

"No shit." His eyes seemed to run from one side of the room to the next, as if he was looking for an escape route.

"How did that happen?" John gestured vaguely. "It looks pretty bad."

"What do you care?" 

"I just want to help."

"Why?"

Because there's a bleeding boy in my living room, John thought. Wouldn't anyone do the same, in this situation? 

"For Adam," he said, evenly, and Alex flinched.

"What did you do to Adam?" He asked, eyes full of suspicion.

"What? Nothing. He's away. With family. He'll be back in a couple days," he added, watching for signs that Alex believed him. There were none.

"I want to go," Alex said, still cradling his injured side, in what could almost pass for a civilized tone. He didn't seem any more able to walk than he had a moment before.

"You're hurt. It could get worse."

"That's my own fucking problem," challenged the boy, teeth bared, "Let me out."

John's shoulders sagged. He really didn't think that was a good idea at all, he'd seen Alex shivering and sweating with a fever 30 minutes before, but it _wasn't_ his right to keep him. He sighed, and pointed to behind Alex. 

"You know where the door is."

Seemingly in slow motion, Alex stood up, using the couch as support, and took one poorly balanced step towards the kitchen, not facing away from John. 

Then he tried a second step and collapsed again, a pained whine escaping his throat even as he tried to suppress it. John ran to him, touching his shoulder, and Alex growled, batting his hand away. The movement seemed to hurt him, 'cause he pulled his arm back immediately with a wince, eyes screwed shut for a second. 

"Stay away," he ordered again, but it was more a plea this time.

John reached the glass of water he'd left on the end table earlier, and offered it to Alex, cautiously. Alex stared at him.

"It's just water." He took a sip of it himself, to demonstrate it was harmless, and pushed it towards Alex once more. He took it, and looked at it blankly. Slowly, as if he'd never drunk water before, he took it to his lips and drank it clumsily. Half of it ran down to his chest. He eyed John, still tense. John weighted his next words.

"I won't touch you if you don't want me to, and I can't force you to stay if you want to leave. But please, stay. At least until you're feeling better. Adam will come home soon."

"Adam chose you," Alex whispered, bitterly, "I don't want to see him."

John considered this.

"You can still stay until he gets here," he offered. There was no reply. "I'll get you more water."

Once he was in the relative privacy of the kitchen, John closed his eyes, tiredly. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to fix this. A wave of guilt overcame him. He wanted to call Adam and ask for advice, but if he did Adam was certain to rush back, and Alex would run away and probably die in the woods or something. He still needed some kind of medical attention, especially as John now suspected an infection and some kind of torsion on his arm, or perhaps a broken bone. But he couldn't see eye-to-eye with the werewolf, and couldn't get him the help he needed. It was overwhelming. 

It had started to snow softly. John looked outside at the place where Alex had passed out the previous morning. He shuddered to think that if he hadn't noticed it, he might have frozen to death by now. Steeling himself, John picked a bottle of water from the refrigerator and went back to Alex, who was now propped against the wall in the corner it formed with Adam's desk, his legs pulled against his chest. 

John handed him the bottle quietly, and then picked up the blanket and left it by his side. Alex watched his every move, eyes wide and untrusting as if he waited for some kind of betrayal. John stood by the bedroom door for a moment, looking back at him. 

"I'm going back to sleep," he announced, "Call me if you need anything?"

It took a long time for John to fall asleep again.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky the next time John opened his eyes. For a moment he wasn't sure how he'd managed to sleep that long. He looked at his closed door, wondering if he'd still find Alex behind it. 

Alex hadn't moved from his corner, though his head hung low, and he was fast asleep. John resisted the temptation to go check in on him, and decided to take a shower instead. He let the water unknot the tension on his back and clear his head. Adam was scheduled to return in three days. If John didn't say anything, he might be able to keep Alex around that long. It wasn't much time, but it was enough for him to rest, hydrate, and hopefully heal those bites a little before he went back out. John _might_ be able to get some antibiotics into him, if he persevered. 

He should probably also try to get him to eat. 

He stepped out of the shower, and found Alex still down. John got dressed quickly and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. After a little hesitation, he broke about ten eggs in a pan with an exaggerated pile of bacon, sipping on his coffee as he scrambled them.

Either the noise or the smell woke Alex up, 'cause he was staring straight ahead when John came in bearing two plates. 

"Good morning!" He spoke cheerfully. Alex remained quiet. 

John held out one of the plates to him until Alex grabbed it, reluctantly. He sat down on the floor, a few meters away, and resisted the urge to turn on the television to fill the silence. He started eating his own eggs, trying not to stare. Alex simply looked at his plate.

"You should eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten in over a day," John pointed out.

"So?"

John didn't respond. 

"What's this?" Alex asked grumpily after a while. John wondered how much, if any, human contact the man had experienced before then.

"Eggs. You know, from chickens - "

"I know what eggs are," Alex growled.

"Good, good. Eggs. With bacon."

He ate in silence for a while, Alex still staring at his plate, squinting. After a while, he picked up a piece of bacon between his fingers, fork ignored, and tried it. John felt a wave of relief. He set his dish aside when he was finished, and picked up the book from the day before. 

There was quiet for an hour or so, John occasionally looking up to see how Alex was doing. He ate about half his food, mostly the bacon, before setting it aside. It seemed like he might want to go back to sleep, but he kept eyeing John at intervals, unable to relax. John decided to give him some time alone, so he picked up the plates and went into the kitchen. 

When he came out again, he found Alex picking at the teeth wounds on his neck. He couldn't see the bite on his side from this angle, but the scratch on his thigh wasn't pretty either, a vague yellowish color to it suggesting pus, and the whole area swollen and bruised. John took the cream tube, and knelt a meter away from Alex, holding it out. 

"If you rub this where your skin is hurt, it'll help," he said. Alex stared at him blankly. John opened it and squeezed some of it on his fingers. "It's a healing cream. It helps wounds heal faster. It'll help with the pain."

Nothing.

"I can help you if you want," He said tentatively, "Or not. It would be better if you were clean, though." He kept holding it out, and Alex kept squinting. John was about to give up on it when Alex spoke, barely audible.

"Okay."

He still didn't move to grab the tube from John's hands, so he crawled up to where the wolf was and sat back on his heels.

"I'm gonna touch your neck now, okay?"

Alex grunted and straightened his neck, which John assumed was some form of consent. Carefully, but with sure fingers, he started applying the cream over and around the bite, paying special attention to where teeth had broken skin. Adam had been right, wolves _could_ do a lot more damage than Alex had done that day.

"Flank now? If you let me," he gestured towards where he knew the other bite was, currently hidden by Alex's drawn up legs. "That looked pretty bad."

Alex turned his face to look at him and John thought he might refuse. After a minute or two, though, he slowly pushed his legs down, exposing his sculpted chest and a very angry looking bite. John applied the cream generously, studiously not staring at the young wolf's dick. He knew he shouldn't. Alex didn't want him to.

He moved to the thigh scratch after that. It looked pretty bad. It was hidden under him when John had cleaned everything else, so it had gotten no care at all till now. He pressured it lightly to see if the pus would come out, and Alex growled at him.

"Sorry," he whispered, "better check."

He finished everything up, and brought Alex more water. Alex took the bottle from him without looking up, but he didn't bark either. John went back to the bedroom, hoping the young man would sleep.

* * *

John organized the bedroom, then the closet. He read a few pages from the book Adam had left by the bedside table, and paced a lot. He considered, for a brief moment, getting out through the window so as not to disturb Alex, but discarded that idea when he saw the thin, slippery layer of ice outside. He had left his laptop in the living room, so that wasn't a possibility. In the end, he settled by sitting on the floor next to the door, and _thinking_ about his life choices.

* * *

This wasn't right. 

Alex had felt a number of emotions in the past 48 hours, from surprise to anger, pain, fear, pain again, shock when he woke up and saw _him_ , pain again, so much pain, and then endless confusion. Overall, a deep, unshakeable feeling of _wrongness_ pervaded this whole thing. The woods, this part of the woods, it was his territory. No other wolf was ever supposed to come near it, but they did, and he defended himself. 

He didn't know why he'd come to Adam, he had made it very clear who his true mate was, and there was no reason for Alex to come after him. But he'd been hurt, and he hadn't been thinking, and _he_ had been the closest to pack Alex had ever known, so he came. 

Now _Alex_ was the one invading someone else's territory, and he should have been killed for it. He would have killed _him_ , had he ever met him on his turf. But for whatever reason Adam's mate wouldn't kill him, or let him leave, and Alex didn't know _why_ , and this wasn't right. 

There was so much pain. 

Perhaps that was why he'd broken, and let Adam's mate touch him and see him and be overall entirely _wrong_ with him. He'd promised it'd help with the pain, and Alex had never felt so much of it in his entire life. He wondered if death would've been better. 

He was sitting by Adam's table. He'd watched Adam at that table many, many times before Adam finally started watching him back. It was probably the safest he could feel, stranded on _his_ territory. Alex had tried to stand again after Adam's mate had locked himself up, and found that every movement hurt. His right shoulder was aching a whole lot, considering he hadn't been bitten there. Even lifting the water bottle made him want to cry out, so he didn't move it, but it wasn't improving over time.

The wounds Adam's mate had covered with the sticky thing _did_ feel better after a couple of hours. Alex was utterly confused. Why was he being helped? What could that man possibly want from him?

The only thing he could think of was that Adam's mate wanted to incorporate him into his own pack. 

It was a horrifying thought. 

Alex was in no position to challenge the man's claim over him at present. He was weakened and scared, and couldn't even transform, which might have given him more power. If he - if _John_ wanted to take him, he could hardly do anything about it.

Alex had always been his own alpha. This wasn't right.

If only Adam had come with him, they might be at peace away from all of these other wolves and other humans and _intruders_. Why hadn't Adam come? Alex had believed he would.

He couldn't sleep. He didn't know what would happen if he did. That morning, Adam's mate had walked right past him and started cooking before Alex was even awake. He was vulnerable here, it wasn't safe. 

It was already dark when John finally unlocked himself. Artificial light flowed out of his bedroom, temporarily blinding Alex, who was used to the dark. 

"Hey, you're awake!" John said, loudly, "how are you feeling?" 

Tired. Cold. Hungry. In fucking pain everywhere. Scared.

He nodded his head without looking at him.

"Is the pain any better, did the cream help?" John crouched down next to him, trying to catch a glimpse of his neck in the dark.

Alex nodded again.

"Would you like to take a shower or something?"

"I don't _take showers_ ," Alex grunted, annoyed. Did this man think he was like himself, in constant need of care and fussing?

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry," John paused for a second, "It's just, with the wounds, it would really help with infection if we could keep them clean. But you don't have to, of course! Just, if you want."

What Alex wanted was to be a wolf again, out and away from all of this. He felt… _exposed_ in a way he never had before. He didn't go about hanging out as a man with anyone but Adam.

John was still looking at him expectantly. "Mind if I," he pointed at Alex's tigh, and when Alex didn't protest, ran a finger along the scratch, pressing lightly. 

Alex saw stars, and not the good kind. He groaned loudly and shot his head back so fast he hit the table behind him, which didn't help matters. John pulled his hand away immediately, but didn't move otherwise, staring at him with concern.

"I'm sorry!" He whispered hurriedly, "but it would really be better if we went to the shower to try and… soften the skin around it a bit. Relieve the pressure. Please?"

Alex was still panting with his eyes half closed. He heard more than saw John stand up and head to the bathroom. There was a bit of noise from there, and then he was back. He knelt by Alex's side, and touched his bad arm lightly. Alex growled and pulled it closer to himself. John was still for a moment, and then he spoke softly, entirely too near to Alex's ear: 

"I'll push the desk away from you for a moment so I can get behind you and help you up, okay? Can you sit up on your own?"

Alex might have nodded. He couldn't tell. 

So John had moved the table away, and Alex struggled to stay upright for a moment, before he felt strong arms wrap themselves around his chest. John held him at a strange angle, trying to avoid both the wound at his flank and not put too much pressure under his fucked up shoulder. Once he had a firm enough grasp, he swiftly stood up, pulling Alex with him. Without turning, he walked to the bathroom, Alex's legs dragging uselessly in front of him. 

The water was already running. John maneuvered him carefully so he was sitting up on a small plastic bench, back to the wall. Alex's head was spinning, what little attention he had focused entirely on his arm. He couldn't understand _why_ it hurt as it did, when it didn't have so much as a scratch on it. Adam's mate pulled his t-shirt over his head, still hovering in front of Alex anxiously. He started running a soft and wet sponge over his good shoulder and neck, and it was pleasantly hot.

"How bad is your arm?" He asked, using the sponge to warm Alex's chest, and face, and thighs. He used his own fingers to clean the wound on his neck, as gentle as a lover. Wrong.

"Fuck awful," he spoke simply, not enough concentration to even be rude about it. 

"Right." John walked around him to get a better look, and squeeze some water over it with the sponge. The warmth felt good. "It's dislocated. That's why it hurts. I think I can put it back in place," he said, still pouring water down his shoulder, "but I need to deal with this cut before. Is that okay?"

Alex eyed him with resentment. There was only resentment, he would never feel _gratitude_ for the man who wouldn't let him have Adam, and would trap him and not let him leave. He might have nodded "yes"?

Through half-lidded eyes, he watched John kneel in front of him so he was at the same level as Alex's lap. He ran the warm sponge delicately over the wound over and over, until the edges looked softer and the dirt was almost entirely gone. It was still swollen and angry-looking, though.

"Alex, I'll apply some pressure now, okay? This will-" There was a pause. "Okay, I won't lie, will hurt like hell. But it'll feel better in the morning, okay? I promise."

_Hell_ was a good word. Accurate. 

Nothing could have prepared Alex for that pain. He shouted and would've fallen down if John hadn't been prepared to prop him up, one hand holding the elbow of his not-fucked arm while the other, which he was using to clean the scratch up, went up to support the not-fucked side of his torso. Alex's heart raced and he panted, eyes closed shut.

"A little more. Just a little more, okay?" 

"I'm fine," Alex tried to bark, but there was no real bite to it. John held his good elbow with a little more force and pressed on the leg wound again. He washed it, and pressed, and washed. It lasted forever. 

Eventually, John turned the shower off, and started drying Alex's limbs gently with a towel. He absorbed water and blood indiscriminately, and when he was satisfied he applied more of the healing cream he had used before, everywhere where there was broken skin, but especially over the thigh scratch.

"Can you stand up?" He asked, and Alex pushed himself up, nearly slipping on the weirdly wet floor. John wrapped an arm around his waist in support, and guided him out of the bathroom and into the room he had spent the morning and afternoon locked in. The room he and Adam nested in. Alex made a noise of protest, but it went unheard. John walked him to the bed, and gently ushered him to lay down. Alex didn't want to, didn't know what was about to happen there, but nothing good could come from laying down there, he knew it couldn't. 

His body apparently didn't care to obey him. 

John left, and came back with a glass of water and something in his hands. He sat at the edge of the bed, and set the glass on the bedside table. 

"These pills will help the pain go away," he seemed to speak from a distance, "it won't be right away, but when you wake up, it'll be better. They'll help with the infection. Will you take them? Please?" His hands seemed to be touching Alex's face. "Okay. I need you to sit up for just a moment. Okay?"

John helped, and then he handed Alex's three small white things, two that looked the same, and one slightly smaller. 

"You need to eat them. Don't chew. The water will make it easier."

A part of Alex felt wrong, violated in following orders from any other man. But his thoughts were still fuzzy, and he was exhausted. He did what he was told, put the white things in his mouth and washed it down with the water. John helped him lie down again, and he closed his eyes. 

"Wait, don't sleep yet!" John's voice sounded again. "I need to put your shoulder back into place. Can I?"

Alex definitely nodded.

John was hovering over him again. He held his hand so it faced up, and slowly moved his arm upwards until there was a loud 'pop'. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to his leg, and Alex didn't protest. After that, there was dark and quiet.

* * *

Alex fell asleep almost as soon as John finished putting his shoulder back into place. John covered him carefully with the duvet, and tiptoed his way to the kitchen.

He had managed not to think about anything other than his patient's well-being for as long as he'd been treating him, but now he was alone again his mind was racing through a dozen different threads of thought, each screaming louder for his attention. He poured himself a glass of wine, and kept the bottle on the counter.

To start, he was absolutely _terrified_ of what could have happened if the infection had gotten _any_ further than it had. He knew there was a risk, but the look of that cut, along with the confusion and lack of coordination… John had _seen_ the effects of sepsis before, and he couldn't tell if he was more relieved or horrified that he could have let someone go through that in the middle of his living room. 

Second, he wasn't so sure not telling Adam was that good an idea anymore. Yes, he didn't want Alex to run off, but on the other hand, Adam was the one person who might actually understand what was going through the wolf's head, cause John was certainly walking in the dark.

Third, Alex was incredibly beautiful.

John felt a wave of shame overcome him, but he couldn't deny it to himself. It wasn't _right_ for him to ogle an injured man, and John had tried, as hard as he could, but he couldn't help noticing how well toned he was, how his cheekbones stood out, or how his eyes shone even when he had a fever. He was attractive in a wild, domineering way, covered with more body hair John had seen on any man, beard ragged and hair strikingly gray. Beneath that, he looked barely past his teenage years. He had looked so soft, so vulnerable as he leaned against the bathroom tile, he'd almost seemed small. 

He was hurt, John told himself, hiding his face in his hands. He was hurt and possibly delirious with the infection and fever, and it was almost… predatory to think of him as a man. A man he'd like to touch, and to hold. And to kiss, and… 

He needed help.

* * *

Alex slept for a long time. 

He didn't always dream when he slept, and when he did it was usually of hunt and prey, of racing through forest and stream, and other simple, clear things. Things he could understand. 

He didn't think he understood _this_ dream. In it, he was both chasing and being chased, but he couldn't tell what he was after, or who was after him. He didn't know what would happen if he were caught, but he knew he had to keep running, running, running. If he stopped, he would lose.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he was no longer in the living room. Memories from the previous night started coming back to him, loose threads of images and sounds, which didn't seem to be in the right order or make much sense. Alex reached for his shoulder, tentatively, and felt it was better. The scratch on his thigh was still swollen, but it didn't feel as hot as it had before, and he could touch the skin around it without wanting to scream in pain.

There was no sign of John. 

Alex sat up and attempted to stand. He swayed for a moment, but found that his legs were capable of supporting him, and so he walked around. 

John mated with Adam in this room. It was, in Alex's opinion, a rather barren place. There wasn't much in it other than the large bed and the nightstands. A small couch, covered with clothes, was pushed against the wall, and the window was too large and vulnerable. There were two doors on the other side, one that led into a much smaller room, filled with clothes, and one that was closed. 

John should be behind that door. 

Alex kept pacing, examining every object he laid his eyes on. A glass of water and more of the tiny white things John had made him swallow the night before were on the nightstand closest to the door. Alex ignored the white things, but drank the water. The other nightstand, the one he thought was Adam's, had a portrait of him and John somewhere with no trees, and book Alex couldn't read. He sat on the floor, under the window, and put his head on his hands.

This _place_ wasn't right.

His wounds looked better, his arm was functional again, and he could _think_ , which had seemed awfully hard the night before for reasons he didn't know. He wondered for a moment if John might have given him something to fuck with his head; he knew humans had such substances. 

John had promised he'd feel better in the morning, though, and he did. Whatever he wanted deep down, so far he had done nothing but tend to Alex, and Alex didn't know what to think of him. Was he doing it out of pity? Was he seeking to replace Adam? The thought made Alex angry. _He_ would never go after a new partner if he could have Adam. He wasn't stupid.

Adam didn't want him, though.

Alex groaned, shutting his eyes. He had to get out of this place, and _out of his head_.

* * *

John woke with a headache. 

He had decided to sleep on the couch, after having one too many glasses of wine, an idea he was now starting to regret. He had peeked into the bedroom late at night, though, and watched Alex sleep for a while; and the thought of sleeping next to him made him feel… wrong. Like he was taking advantage. So he left him alone. 

Groaning, John dragged himself to the bathroom to throw some water at his face, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes as if he could clean away the evidence. His hair was a wild mess he tried to pat down with very little success, but there was a reasonably clean shirt hanging behind the door so he got dressed, and felt a little better. 

John checked the messages on his phone, feeling guilty. He wasn't one to call in sick often, and his boss sounded legitimately concerned on the audio message he'd sent the night before, which John hadn't had time to reply to yet. He bit his lips as he typed a hurried "I'm feeling better, thanks, but I'll need a couple more days." He sighed. He was now lying to his husband _and_ his coworkers, what a great job.

It was still early, but his stomach was complaining loudly, and John remembered he had really only eaten eggs the day before. He wondered how Alex was faring. He suspected whatever he cooked would be highly inappropriate to someone used to live prey and considered for a moment going to town and… hitting a pet shop? The thought made his stomach churn. 

He settled for waffles and sausages. 

John didn't want to interrupt Alex's rest, so he didn't wake him up when the food was ready, eating in front of his computer instead. Adam had tagged him on a funny post and he found himself smiling for a minute, before the guilt came back. He _had_ to tell him, soon. Adam would know what to do, he would make it okay again.

The sun reached its summit and started going down, and John started worrying again.

He knew Alex must have been exhausted after everything, but he hadn't eaten, and he was entering his 16th hour of sleep. John had gotten antibiotics and a painkiller into him, but it might not have been enough, or he might be having some other kind of problem. 

He opened the bedroom door soundlessly and peered inside. 

His heart stopped when he saw the empty bed. 

He walked in, touching the sheets pointlessly, and then moving towards the window. It was still closed, and there was no sign outside that Alex had passed through it. He was about to check under the bed when a growl startled him.

Alex was crouching in the closet, his yellow eyes glinting ferociously in the dark. Wolf eyes. John felt he couldn't breathe.

He had only ever seen Alex as a wolf when he'd been hurt and unconscious, and he'd looked almost harmless then, fragile. The magnificent animal in front of John now was neither. Even crouched, he was still big and strong looking, a feeling of power and resilience surrounding him like an aura. John understood, with a mixture of awe and apprehension, that Alex could very easily snap his neck without breaking a sweat. The wolf bared his teeth at him.

He should be afraid.

He should have walked away very slowly, and possibly gotten into his car, and driven away.

John approached Alex, ignoring every warning his brain shouted at him, until he was right in front of him, and then he fell onto his knees, close enough to feel Alex's body heat, hear his breathing. He raised a tentative hand, exhilarated, and petted Alex's fur, reveling in the sensation.

That was a mistake, he realized one second too late. 

Alex's movements were a blur of fur, and before John could register it he was on his back, cradling a bleeding hand, Alex imposing over him with both front paws digging into his chest. The growling was deafening now, and John could only see the yellow of his eyes. Alex grazed John's neck with sharp teeth, and John fell limp, panting. Then Alex was human again, and he was grabbing John by the front of his shirt, face mere centimeters away from him, a figure of pure rage.

"How _dare_ you replace him, how can you even-"

"What," John gasped, confused.

"He chose _you_!" Alex shook him, knocking his head on the floor. "And you betray-"

"What… are you talking about." John's head felt fuzzy. 

"Adam!"

"I'm not trying to replace him!"

"Then _what are you doing?_ " There was a note of desperation mixed with the anger now, and John didn't know how to react to it. "What do you _want_ , why are you doing this?"

"What am I doing exactly?" 

"Keeping me here!"

"I… do you _want_ to leave?" John asked in a huff, and for a moment thought Alex might bite him again. 

"He _chose_ you," Alex repeated, and his eyes seemed wetter than was normal. "You _won_."

John let the silence settle, thinking, calculating. Alex's thighs held him firmly in place, but he tried to push himself up on his elbows, to look at him better.

"It's not about winning," he whispered gently.

Alex laughed mirthlessly.

"You can have him. That's winning."

"It's not… you could _also_ have him. It never had to be a choice."

"That's not how it works," Alex said, narrowing his eyes.

"It could be."

"How?" John could hear the challenge, but he thought he might also be hearing questioning, or hope.

"It doesn't need to be you or me." John tried to keep his tone even, though his heart was racing. "He can have us both, or," he swallowed nervously. "We can all… have it all." 

Alex's eyes widened.

"If you want to!" John added hurriedly.

They stared at each other in silence, so quietly one could have heard the drop of a pin, and John wondered if he'd ever get a response. He wished he knew what Alex was thinking, what emotions were hiding behind his eyes. He couldn't tell if an hour had passed, or a minute.

"Do you want me to submit to you?" he asked at last, voice raspy and low. 

"I want you to stay," he said simply.

He'd known it the moment he opened the door to a seemingly empty room. He'd known it when desire had mixed itself with concern at the sight of Alex under the hot spray on the shower. He knew it right then, hand throbbing, that he didn't want Alex to go.

Alex's nostrils flared, and then he shifted his weight away from John, kneeling between his legs and closing his eyes. John pulled himself up and sat on his heels, touching the young man's face softly with the tips of his fingers.

"What do _you_ want?" He asked, gently. 

Alex shivered, and slowly threw his head back, exposing his neck.

"I-I can't touch you if you don't tell me," he whispered, though he did touch Alex's jaw, and the now healing bite on his neck. "Please."

Golden eyes met his, and Alex opened his mouth as if he meant to speak. He seemed frightened. John's hand fell to his side. 

"Alex?"

The wolf was a but a gray blur when he disappeared through the door. John heard glass breaking and a soft whimper. When he reached the living room, Alex had already disappeared in the woods.

He stared ahead blankly, blood softly dripping from his hand. Trembling, he picked up his phone.

_Please come home. I need you._

* * *

Adam made tea.

It had always calmed him, making tea. His mind wandered as he selected the leaves he wanted and poured the hot water, and he was comforted by the knowledge that some things were that straightforward. 

About a month had passed since he had rushed back home to find his husband cradling an injured hand in the dark, sitting in a mosaic of broken glass as the cold winter air blew into the living room. "Too much, it was too much," John had said in tears, and it took some work to get an intelligible story out of him. 

Adam had cleaned John's bitten hand. He had called someone to repair the window. Methodically, he'd put their lives back in some resemblance of what it used to be before Alex had come into it. John went back to work, Adam made an honest attempt at writing. He looked through the window often, but there was never anyone outside.

He clutched the mug close to his chest. 

John watched a movie about something Mesopotamian, legs crossed with his feet under him. Adam watched him fondly from the kitchen. It had taken him a couple days to calm down, and for Adam to convince him what had happened wasn't his fault. He'd still worried John might be tearing himself down in his head sometimes, but there were some things his husband would have to come to terms with on his own. 

Adam sat down next to him on the couch, and pulled a knitted blanket over their legs, resting his head on John's shoulder. John wrapped an arm around him comfortably, and Adam sighed.

He felt more than he heard the steps outside. Then he saw him, and their eyes met. 

Adam didn't move immediately, an unexpected wave of calm taking him over. He took his time examining Alex's body, his _human_ body, counting the marks he didn't know. Alex stopped a few meters away from the window, and Adam had never seen such an expression on his face. 

He was afraid.

Gently, almost imperceptibly, he touched John's thigh. John looked at him, and then saw Alex behind him. He went pale; Alex took a step back. 

"Stay," he whispered softly, and stood up.

It wasn't as if Adam _knew_ what to do exactly, or what to say. He could only guess it was instinct, when he held Alex's stare and walked slowly to the window. Alex didn't move, his eyes fleeting from him to John. Adam opened the window:

"Will you come inside?"

Alex took a few unsteady steps towards him, touching the glass with confusion. He looked at Adam and bit his lips, before climbing through. Adam didn't try to help him, nor did he close the window behind him. He touched Alex's rough hand for a second, seemingly taking him by surprise, and then he went back to the couch.

Alex stood by the window for a long time, awkwardly. John had turned the TV off, and was presently staring at his hands. Adam could feel him shake, and he touched his knee in comfort, at the same time he smiled at Alex, trying to convey that it was _fine_ , it was going to be _okay_.

He knew that, somehow.

Eventually, Alex sat down on the floor across from them, pulling his legs to his chest and staring at up at them, almost challengingly.

"I'm staying."

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like using a song from Lana del Rey as title was a little trashy. I ended up going with Miley Cyrus. 
> 
> There might be some additional porn to go with this >.>


End file.
